


I'm Sorry

by tonkatsupls



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: AU in which Ephraim and Lyon couldn't kill each other, Angst, Bad End AU, Brainwashed peeps, Complete, Does this even count as hurt/comfort??? Or even battlefield injuries??, I chose a character at random and it was Ewan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonkatsupls/pseuds/tonkatsupls
Summary: He couldn't do it. Ephraim couldn't kill Lyon. So Lyon took that opportunity to take over Magvel, but...(Secret Santa present for a friend in RP group)





	I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChuChuMarshmallow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuChuMarshmallow/gifts).



> PERISH FLUFFY

Lyon’s eyes raked over the once beautiful kingdom of Renais, once blessed by the sun, now shrouded by a dark fog. He could still envision the vibrant greens of the grasses, the gentle sunlight that kissed its inhabitants as they walked in and out of their cozy little houses… Now there was naught but dilapidated ruins as far as the eye could see.

Lyon strode on past the Mogalls and Baels that resided in what surely had been a pleasant village. He never had to worry about the monsters; if anything, they knew better than to get in his way. It got to the point that Lyon no longer even concerned himself with bringing guards with him… Not that he ever needed any in the first place. He had long since past the point of needing protection. Nowadays, the only reason he kept someone with him at all was for his own amusement, and the same was true now.  
  
“Have you seen anyone yet?” Lyon asked without turning back to face his “guard”, only to be met with a low mumbling. He narrowed his eyes as he stopped to look at his partner. “Speak up. You were never one to eat your words, _Ephraim_ , so I hardly expect you to do it now.”

A flicker of emotion flitted through Ephraim’s turquoise eyes, but it disappeared as soon as it came. Lyon sighed as he walked up to his friend. As always, Ephraim donned a suit of armor, its blue sheen subdued under the blackened sky. As always, Ephraim held the Flame Lance close, though its heat had long since cooled. As always, Ephraim had that same blank expression on his face, the fire in his eyes smothered so many moons ago.

“No.” Ephraim’s tone was curt. “I haven’t seen anyone.”

Lyon arched a brow. “Really? Pity. It would have been nice to run into one of those knights of yours… What were their names again?” Lyon didn’t wait for an answer. He could care less for what remained of Ephraim’s retinue, for it wasn’t as if Ephraim would ever need them again. “No matter, I’m sure we’ll find them eventually. There aren’t many places left to hide after all… You’ll find them for me, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Lyon smirked at the swift answer. It had taken a while for him to get used to Ephraim’s obedience (for when was Ephraim ever obedient?), but he had to admit, it rather suited him. Lyon had always wanted a dog of his own, and what better one than the prince of Renais himself? “You always were so reliable Ephraim…” He raised a hand to cup Ephraim’s cheek. “Really, I’ve always admired that about you.”

He hummed under his breath as he continued to map the contours of Ephraim’s face. Every part of him was strong, sharp, as chiseled as the rest of him… Ephraim’s entire being hummed with power. All that power, all for Lyon to control. Lyon’s fingers moved downward until they brushed against Ephraim’s neck. “So admirable…” His fingers wrapped around his throat. “And so annoying.”

Lyon squeezed, the lancer’s heartbeat thrumming under his hand. It would be so _easy_. Ephraim’s life was his. He was the one to decide its course, its fate, its end… Lyon leaned in forward, his gaze trained on Ephraim’s face, but his friend’s expression was frozen, his eyes glazed over. _Of course._ No matter what Lyon did to him, Ephraim would not react. He wouldn’t even bat an eye if Lyon were to smite him on the spot. Lyon narrowed his eyes as he let go.

“Can’t you-?”

Lyon lurched forward as he felt something collide with his back. He whirled around to see a small child, tattered blue cape fluttering in the wind, his hair as red as the fire that hurled off his fingers. Lyon grunted again as another fireball hit him square in the chest. “Impudent whelp-!”

Lyon struggled to get the tome off the side of his belt as he endured flame after flame. Though his resistance was rather high, it was still infuriating that some _brat_ was-! Lyon growled as he opened the spell book, violet glowing around him as he chanted furiously. The winds picked up around him, taking on a purple tinge as they gathered around the youth. The boy yelped, letting out another fireball, one that managed to knock the book out of Lyon’s hand. Lyon hissed as he retracted his hand, the tome dropping onto the ground as the boy turned tail and ran. “You-!”

“Ewan…?”

Lyon froze. Quickly, he turned back to see Ephraim with a hand on his forehead, a dazed expression on his face. Lyon’s eyes widened as Ephraim lifted his head to face him. _Oh no._

Lyon scrambled to pick up spell book. His fingers only managed to graze the cover of the tome before something slammed on the side of his head, turning his vision to black.

 

* * *

 

Lyon hadn’t expected to wake up again.

When he came to, he found himself lying on a dusty old bed, his head throbbing. He groaned as he gripped the cold towel on the side of his head.

“I see you’re awake.”

Lyon snapped towards the sound of the voice. Seated next to him was Ephraim, crouched in a chair, leaning forward as he stared at Lyon, a vulnerary in his hands. “How are you?”

“What do you think?” Lyon growled as he focused on Siegmund propped up next to him. “You never cease to amaze me Ephraim… Why, you must have only had mere seconds to react once my hold on you loosened, and yet you managed to turn the tables in your favor all the same…” He chuckled humorlessly, for of course Ephraim overpowered him. It was so much like old times, with Lyon toppled on the ground beneath Ephraim and his lance during their practice sessions. “You truly are a brilliant fighter...”

“I always have been.” Lyon scowled as he looked back to Ephraim, the other man’s face calm. “You, on the other hand…”

“Who was it that bested you?” Lyon snapped. “Have you forgotten the result of our battle? I _won._ I _finally_ managed to defeat you in a match.”

Lyon hoped that his reply would get a rise out of his friend, but Ephraim merely shook his head. “That may be so, but that doesn’t change that you were never meant for this path.” He leaned in more, resting his chin on his hands. “You never will be.”

Lyon’s scowl deepened, his anger fueled by how aggravatingly _composed_ Ephraim was. “I don’t know what you’re doing Ephraim, but if you’re going to finish me, then just do it! In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t done so already!”

A pause. Minutes trickled by as Ephraim continued to look at Lyon with those same, judging eyes. Lyon averted his gaze, fidgeting in his bed. Why _hadn’t_ Ephraim killed him already? Here the prince was, his captor at his mercy, doing absolutely _nothing_ … He knew Ephraim was a madman, but he didn’t think his insanity extended this far.

“Why…” Lyon’s snarl turned into a frown as he faced Ephraim once more. “Why didn’t you kill me then? Of all the people that could stop me, you were the one who could. You and Eirika both.” _And I know you want to,_ a voice screamed in his head. _I know you want nothing to do with me. Not after everything I’ve done._ “So why…?”

Lyon could still envision the scene now: him, holding Naglfar steady as he faced the future king of Renais, perched like a god on his steed, Siegmund in his grasp. Ephraim had charged at him through the miasma, yet when the time came to lower his lance, Ephraim… couldn’t. It was a moment’s hesitation, but a moment was all Lyon needed. He felt Formotiis coursing through his veins as he changed his chants, could hear the demon’s laughter ringing in his ears as the light faded from his friend’s eyes. Lyon stood still as he watched Ephraim turn his horse around, the Flame Lance piercing through each of the allies he had brought into the temple with him—their eyes wide as stones, their screams reverberating through the walls— until the floor was red with blood… The only one who had survived that day was Eirika, but even she fell to Lyon’s control once subdued. The twins of Renais, then his greatest enemies, now his greatest allies… After everything that had happened in the war, Lyon could hardly believe the reality that had unfurled before him.

Ephraim closed his eyes as if he was contemplating an answer. It was such a surreal sight that Lyon would have burst out laughing had he not been too busy reeling from pain. When Ephraim opened his eyes once more, Lyon could see that same piercing gaze, the one that made it seem as if Ephraim could read his thoughts, the same expression Lyon so feared and adored.

“Why didn’t you?”

Lyon blinked. He slowly rose up into a seated position, turning to face Ephraim once he did so, his expression twisting as he opened his mouth. “You’re an even bigger fool than I thought if you think I’m still the same weakling as I was before. Do you really dare to insinuate that I left you alive for _sentimentality’s_ sake?” A rage bubbled in him as his fingers curling around the sheets. Even after all this time, Ephraim dared to believe Lyon’s heart still beat for them. “If your deaths were necessary for Grado’s future, I would have killed you two in a heartbeat.” He shook his head. “No, it was simply far too advantageous to turn you two into my puppets instead. With you two under my bidding, nobody else could ever _hope_ to stand in my way. I left you alive for my own gain, and nothing else.” Lyon scoffed, his voice rising. “And I would say it was quite an effective strategy at that! Most, if not all, of your allies are gone. There is no one else that can best me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Not even you.”

Ephraim’s eyes blazed with the fury Lyon knew must be seething underneath those turquoise orbs. He could see the challenge, the defiance that was so characteristic to Ephraim, the sheer determination that powered Ephraim through any and all of his endeavors. _Do it,_ Lyon goaded in his mind. _Come at me._

Yet Ephraim refused to rise from his seat. Riling up Ephraim was by no means difficult, but for Ephraim to stay so still, so silent, when he surely must be furious? It wasn’t like him at all. Lyon half wished for Ephraim to kill him already to put an end to this madness.

“I saved Grado in the end,” Lyon murmured, desperate for something, _anything_ to be said. “The crisis was averted. With my power, and my power _alone_ , I achieved the impossible.” At this point, Lyon’s tone was pleading, but as to what he was pleading _for_ , Lyon couldn’t tell. “I _saved_ them, Ephraim.”

“No, you didn’t. Nor did you do it alone.” Lyon couldn’t help but be frightened by how low Ephraim’s voice was, of how it cut through the air around them. “Mark my words, I will find a way so that you would never turn to his influence ever again.” Ephraim slowly blinked, his gaze hard as steel. “Lyon, so long as I’m alive, I will find a way to rid you of the Demon King.”

Ephraim truly was full of surprises. Even now, Lyon couldn’t fathom how unfailingly _kind_ he was. Lyon knew that what he did was unforgivable—he brought ruin to his kingdom, had forced Ephraim to slaughter his own friends, and that hardly accounted for everything he had done beforehand. There was no turning back from his atrocities. He had no hope for redemption, and yet Ephraim’s heart extended to him all the same. Lyon reached over to cup Ephraim’s cheek.

“You can’t.”

Ephraim tried to move away, but it was too late. Lyon had already finished his chant, and the light left his friend’s eyes once more. Lyon lowered his hand, his expression blank.

“What can’t you understand Ephraim…?” He whispered, his chest tightening. “I wanted this all along. I’ve _always_ wanted this.” Lyon shook his head, wincing as he struggled to get up from his bed. Once standing, he glanced at the unmoving man beneath him. Once again, Ephraim was his to control. Lyon sighed as he turned away.

“Come on,” he called out as he made his way to the door. “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

It was as if a fog had parted ways before him.

Every part of him seemed to be screaming. From the corner of his eye, Ephraim saw Ewan dart out of view, but he could hardly comprehend what was in front of him as snatches of images returned to him in a flash. He clearly recalled the months he spent as under Lyon’s control, awaiting his every beck and call. He clearly recalled the way he struggled to regain control of his mind, only to be pushed back by some invisible force. He clearly recalled the red that stained Siegmund as he unwillingly used Renais’s Sacred Twin against the same people he swore to protect.

Ephraim groaned as he glanced up. He watched the panic set in Lyon’s face as the mage’s eyes darted to the tome lying on the ground.

Ephraim didn’t even think.

He panted as Lyon’s body fell, readjusting Siegmund so that the butt of the lance was on the ground. He raised Siegmund, its point aimed towards Lyon’s heart. He brought the lance down.

“Ephraim…”

Ephraim stopped, the lance a hair’s breadth from Lyon’s body. He froze as Lyon stirred, his name escaping the mage’s lips a second time. _Don’t fall for it_. Ephraim was sure he had knocked Lyon out cold. For all he knew, Formotiis was in control right at this moment, trying to fool him once more with his tricks.

And yet…

Ephraim clearly recalled the last time he had battled Lyon. He remembered the way he had charged through the purple fog, his will hardened at the job that needed to be done. As reluctant as he was to do so, Lyon had to die, for the road to peace had no room for the vessel of the Demon King. Yet when Ephraim was about to strike the finishing blow, he made the mistake of meeting Lyon’s eyes. There was a readiness in those lavender depths, the same determination Ephraim himself had felt… But there was also _concern_. Though he could not quite explain it, it was then that Ephraim knew: Lyon didn’t want to kill him.

And so, for once in his life, Ephraim hesitated.

Ephraim sighed as he laid down Siegmund. Getting down on his knees, he scooped up Lyon in his arms. He watched Lyon stir once again before looking around his surroundings, grief sinking into the depths of his stomach as he took a good look at what Renais had become.

_I’m sorry._

Ephraim knew he was making a mistake, just as he had all those months ago when he did not kill Lyon. He knew that no good could come out of Lyon’s continued existence. Yet some part of him knew that Lyon—the Lyon he _knew_ —was still somewhere in there. It was foolish, but there was no Renais left for Ephraim to protect. Though he had already failed his father, his sister, and his people, there was one person he had yet to fail.

Ephraim began walking towards the nearest house. He glanced down at his friend—his dearest friend—as he curled up closer to his chest. Ephraim’s grip on Lyon tightened.

 _This I promise you Lyon,_ Ephraim thought as he kicked open the door. _So long as I draw breath, I will find a way to save you._ He gazed ahead into the darkness. _You can count on it._

 

  


End file.
